


Bound by Silk

by BrightneeBee, Draughtofpeace, jalapeno_eye_popper



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Clothed Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship, fabric kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:21:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26672086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightneeBee/pseuds/BrightneeBee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draughtofpeace/pseuds/Draughtofpeace, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jalapeno_eye_popper/pseuds/jalapeno_eye_popper
Summary: Fabric Kink with Clothed Sex, prompted by @Draughtofpeace and @severusmysin.Hermione and Snape rendezvous in the dungeons for a particular... lesson in restraint.
Relationships: Severus Snape/Hermione Granger
Comments: 5
Kudos: 100
Collections: Page 394 Discord Collection





	Bound by Silk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [severusmysin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/severusmysin/gifts).



> Creators and contributors: brightneeBee, Draughtofpeace, jalapeno_eye_popper, and severusmysin (AO3) <3

Hermione had a little secret. A few little secrets, in fact.

The first was her undergarments. It really put a smile on her face to wear something sexy every day, underneath her uniform. It made the days seem less tedious, and built serious anticipation for the night.

Today she had something new, something that her lover had sent to her.

Oh yes, that was one of her other little secrets, but we'll get to him soon enough.

The satin demi-cup bra was a vivid cobalt blue, with delicate lace trim that was just abstract enough you couldn't quite tell if it was bows or butterflies. The panties matched, and the waist-nipper might have been unnecessary, but the strong cobalt straps that held up her stockings evoked a sensual restraint that she was dying to unleash.

She wore this getup all day, feeling the soft cool fabric against her nipples and crotch, all through Runes, Arithmancy, Transfiguration, and even her Prefect rounds. Magical fabric was a wonder of the world, staying the perfect temperature, and fresh, too. When all that business was finally done, she donned a wicked little smile, and made her way down into the depths of the castle

Slipping down a dark corridor, Hermione vanished behind a tapestry. The chill rippling through the secret passageway caught in her chest, dancing over her skin in a tantalizing waltz. The supple material of her lingerie kissed her nipples in a cool caress, and her knickers fluttered against her slick cunt. There was a silent promise in the air that crept up her spine in exhilarating trickles. 

A reminder of what was to come. 

The prelude into a night of pure, unrestrained debauchery. 

She anticipated it.

Hermione passed an alcove, the arch of it catching in the periphery of her wand tip alight by Lumos. She had quite fond memories of the dungeons, especially the alcoves in the corridors and secret passageways. The thought of each encounter sizzled down the length of her neck. 

He had been observing her from the shadows of that particular alcove, ever since she had descended the narrow, winding steps of the hidden passage. He knew every corner and crevice of the castle, especially the lower levels, like scars on the backs of his hands. And he'd already had her in quite a few nooks, so far. Because he knew them all, and he knew when to reach out, grasp her firmly, and pull her into the darkness with him. 

The dungeons were his domain. 

That night, he'd hissed and snarled into her wild curls.  _ "Do not undermine me when I give direct orders in my classroom, Miss Granger. I will not tell you twice." _

If it were not for the small echo of her steps filling the poorly lit tunnels, it would be quite easy to hear a pin drop. Hermione turned left when she reached the end of a stretched and narrow passageway, Snape trailing close behind, a threatening glint in his black eyes. 

Snape had become so practiced in wandering the corridors at night that Hermione barely noticed when he pounced on her from behind, closing his hand over her mouth in one swift movement. “Lost, are we?,” He breathed into her ear.

"Mm, hmm," she moaned, muffled by his hand. She tilted her head, running her jaw up the length of his palm and against the soft cuff of his shirt, a white edge peeking out from the impossibly dark blue robes.

He marched her sideways, just a few paces, through a hidden door to an old storage closet. When they first began these illicit liaisons, he had cleared it out, dusted it, and prepared a narrow little table, draped in lush scarves of silk, cashmere, velvet, satin...

Snape flicked his wand over his shoulder, warding the door with locks, silencing charms, and a paranoia perimeter ward. He wanted no interruptions.

Then he slipped his hands around Miss Grangers backside, groping where he knew she'd have a cobalt blue hemline.

Hermione's hands crept up to his shoulders, peeling back his outer robe and then running down the buttons of his jacket. He allowed this, just long enough to watch her improved dexterity with the way she could flick her fingers to release each button with one hand.

She'd been getting lots of practice.

As she did this with her right hand, her left snuck down to his soft wool trousers and cupped his manhood, but he swatted her hand away. Her efforts on the buttons were only half-finished, but he swatted that hand, too.

"Now, now, Miss Granger, that's far enough, and you know better. Naughty hands ought to be punished, and naughty girls out after curfew ought to be... " His voice dropped low as he gripped both of her wrists and squeezed tightly. "...  _ restrained. _ "

Her breath caught in her throat, and she moaned before she begged, "The silk, please sir? I know you picked this color to match."

"You know nothing," he hissed, drawing his wand and casting to vanish her clothes, everything but her undergarments, and her Gryffindor tie.

Hermione bit her lip as she watched Snape's gaze rake down her body and then back up again. She pressed her thighs together, and she felt the dampness in her new blue knickers.

"Lie down."

Hermione shivered as the cool, dry breeze circulating the dungeons suddenly met the warmth of her skin. Inching onto the table behind her, she could feel the soft cashmere brushing up against her bum, making the hard slab all the more inviting. 

Her hands reached out across the desk, reveling in the different textures of the scarves he had strewn about, until she had comfortably laid back. 

Snape stepped forward, his white linen shirt and dark blue silk cravat peering from underneath the front of his jacket, his pale skin a stark contrast against the dark fabric. His black gaze resolute, like a predator in the night. “Control, Miss Granger,” Snape smirked as his eyes covered the length of her body and stopped at the wet spot in her underwear that clung to her pussy, the dim lighting casting such a shadow that he could see the outline of her lips. 

“You’ve already wet your knickers and I’ve barely touched you,” Snape purred into her ear as he leaned over her body, the soft wool of his garments brushing up against her skin so subtly it made her stomach tremor. His body nudged in between her parted legs, their bodies pressed together so tightly he could feel the heat radiating from her cunt against his cock even through several layers of clothing.

Merlin, how she loved the contrasting sensation of his robes coasting over her skin, the press of him so close yet barely a breath from touching and how he towered over her menacingly. It was thrilling in a way that should have sent her fleeing in fear, yet she craved that sense of danger. 

Hermione held her breath, and obeyed Snape without hesitation. Their odd relationship balanced evenly based on her ability to trust him, and offer him the tense control she vibrated with every day.

It. Was.  _ Delicious. _

Reaching blind above her head, so that she could keep her gaze locked to his smouldering dark eyes, Hermione fondled each scarf one-by-one, until she found the one she wanted. The magical silk was always cool, no matter long it touched her skin, no matter how much hot passion he inspired within her. It was soft and thin and dark blue, and it felt just like an autumn breeze.

She held it in both hands and brought it between them, offering it with her palms up. "Please, sir."

There was an approving gleam in his eye that she had never seen in the classroom, but it made her all the more eager of a pupil for these sensual games. She had learned quickly that he liked it when she begged.

Slowly rocking his hips against hers, Snape took one end of this scrap of silk and wound it twice around Hermione's left wrist and then tucked it into her palm. He didn't knot it. She would have to hold it. If she let it go, she would lose this sensory delight and it would be all her fault. That was a much more difficult lesson she had learned.

He did the other wrist, and then pushed both of her hands high above her head, looping the middle of the scarf over the edge of the table. To do this he had to lean in close, pressing more firmly against her and making her squirm for more contact with the feast of fabric at her back and on his body.

When he straightened himself, he ran his hands all the way down her arms, tickling her as he slid to the bra straps and followed the edge of the demi cups with the pads of his fingers. Goosebumps bloomed across her skin.

She tested the pull of the silk in her hands, and she had only a couple inches of slack. Hermione sighed in contentment. During their first encounter, she had been so awkward with her hands, and this was his brilliant solution.

One finger slipped under the laced edge of her demi cup, and then two, until his hand found its way over the flesh of her breast, the cobalt blue lace embellishing his pale skin as his palm rubbed over her erect nipple. Hermione writhed underneath the weight of his body, grinding her pussy against the length of his cock. How could he be so methodical, so long-suffering? Evidently, these were attributes that were not exclusive to his classroom.

“Sir, you’re so hard….,” Hermione moaned into his mouth before sinking her teeth into the flesh of his bottom lip. Snape jerked away and Hermione watched the nimbleness of his fingers as they untied the dark blue cravat still tied around his neck. Her eyes resembled golden pots of honey, grasping through the shadows, begging him for more.

Then she really did beg. "Oh please, sir, fill me up. I'm ready. Please --"

Snape glared. He would fill her up all right. "You talk too much, Miss Know-it-all. I will tell you when you are ready." Then he gently pulled the cravat across her open mouth before pressing through it with his thumb. She tried to lock her lips around him, the silk between them, but he easily slipped his thumb back out, gathered more of the fabric, and shoved.

She moaned around this mouthful of cool silk, and she writhed in pleasure at the first fill-up as he undid the button of his fly.

"Miss Granger, you have soiled my trousers with your eager, wet, quim." His voice had dropped dangerously low. "But we are a little busy right now. You will clean up that mess... later."

Threat? Promise? Both? Did it matter? Hermione moaned again, and she pulled the scarf taught when she felt him pull her panties to the side and tap his fully erect penis against her cunt.

He entered her with maddening slowness, eyes on fire. He felt like silk over steel. Cliche, maybe, but accurate. Once he was buried to the hilt, he leaned down again and laid flush against her. Surrounded, tied, and stuffed with silks, Hermione closed her eyes and gave in to the luxury.

Snape rocked slowly, relishing the hot, willing flesh beneath him, the cool linen of his shirt wicking his sweat, and the satin of her undergarments under his hands. When she moaned again, he knew she was close, and he increased his rhythm, closing his own eyes.

.

Sharing in the heightened sense of touch, their practiced motions brought them both to the edge.

Hermione pulled her legs up around him, driving him deeper, and he growled as he came.

That sound sent Hermione over the edge, as if a fuse connected her ears to her crotch, and she exploded with the power of the entire day's anticipation and extreme focus of his attention.

Shuddering, she released the death-grip of her hands on the scarf, slipped it down, and draped it across the back of his neck. She took a deep breath so she could dislodge the cravat in her mouth, and then she pulled him down for a searing kiss.

He ran his tongue across her lips, and she parted them, welcoming him inside her this way, too. When they finally came up for air, he gasped, "Cobalt suits you."

She smiled and winked at him. "Of course, you knew it would."


End file.
